When Bad Things Happen
by Lily1186
Summary: Doctor Ellicot was not completely destroyed at the Asylum. Now, Sam is being used as a pawn and Dean is the one being punished. Choose your own ending. T for possible future content and language.
1. Chapter 1

**When Bad Things Happen **

**Disclaimer: No I do not own anything Supernatural related. Maybe one day...**

Pairings: None really at the moment, okay maybe slightly slashy. Possibly Sam/Dean later. (It all depends on you guys)

Summary: Doctor Ellicot was not completely destroyed at the Asylum. Now, Sam is being used as a pawn and Dean is the one being punished.

Author's Note: I would like to thank StarCherrieQueen for this idea. I hope it comes out the way you were thinking, if not then you can tell me what to fix. Also, I would like to say that I have not given up on Caged, I'm just having a bit of writer's block at the moment, so instead this came together in my head. Hope you all like it...

Oh yeah, this is Sam's POV by the way. Sorry if the tenses change occasionally, I'm mighty tired...

* * *

It came from out of nowhere.

I remember that Dean and I were driving along one of the same boring back-country roads that we always drive on and I had started to feel a little sick. It wasn't the kind of sick that made you want to hurl out the window, or stop to take a deep breath though. It was the kind of sick where you feel a slight numbing sensation in the back of your head and you suddenly feel like you could hit the floor.

Dean had been saying something along the lines of being "tired of driving my stupid ass around," when I suddenly just lost control. It was like a switch had been thrown or something. I couldn't stop myself. The next thing I remember I was looking at Dean in an entirely new light. Every word that came out of his mouth grated on my nerves and made me want to scream. Even the way he looked just made me want to beat the living shit out of him.

It was when he reached over to change the tape in the player though that I snapped. All I remember was his hand reaching toward the eject button and the next thing I knew my elbow was connecting with his nose, hard.

Time seemed to slow down then. It felt like forever as Dean looked at me in surprise before letting go of the wheel and attempting to stop the blood that was now freely flowing from his nose.

Then, everything sped up again. I heard Dean swear and slam on the breaks. My head connected briefly with the dashboard before slamming back into the leather cushion of the seat. Dean had tried vainly to grab the steering wheel with one hand and hold his nose with the other but he failed miserably as his blood slicked hand slid too far to the right.

The Impala fishtailed unevenly for a while until it finally came to a stop halfway on the tar and halfway on the shoulder.

For a second silence reigned. All that could be heard was the sound of Dean's heavy panting and my own light breathing.

Then I remember looking at Dean and his blood soaked face and grabbing the door handle roughly. It opened without protest and slammed shut without so much as a sound. The next thing I knew I was practically leaping over the hood of the car and my hands were groping through the driver's side window searching for something to grab on to.

They found purchase on the collar of Dean's jacket and without further thought to what the hell I was doing, I grabbed it tightly with both hands and pulled him through the window with as much strength as I could muster.

To Dean's credit his shock had pretty much warn off by then and he was struggling like a pit bull. He might have even been able to fight me off if it hadn't been for the fact that I had a psychotic Doctor whispering things in my ear that would have made a hooker blush or a homicide detective throw up his lunch.

As it was, his struggles didn't so much as register except to serve in pissing me off further.

A red haze had settled itself over my vision and my only thoughts consisted of squeezing the life out of my brother with my bare hands.

Dean's voice was filtering in and out of my head and I could catch words like "isn't you..." and "fight it..." but I didn't really pay any attention to it because I was too focused on getting a good enough grip around Dean's beautiful neck.

He was still struggling magnificently and I almost laughed at the irony. Big strong Dean couldn't even fight off his string bean of a brother. True, I wasn't exactly a light weight, what with being trained since I was six, but still...Dean definitely had more strength and a better build for hand to hand combat.

After all he was Daddy's little soldier.

The thought of my Father brought another rush of rage and instead of trying to strangle Dean my brain pulled out an even more twisted form of demise.

My fingers left Dean's throat and found purchase in his short blonde hair. Faster then I knew I could I had ripped his head to the side as violently as possible and exposed his neck like a lamb for the slaughter.

* * *

Oddly enough it was the sight of Dean's exposed throat that seemed to trigger something inside of me. For a moment, the red haze lifted and the sound came rushing back.

In true Dean fashion he was trying to talk me down. My ears could finally hear him yelling about how I "Didn't want to do this" and that he was "Going to kick my ass when I came back to my senses."

The haze was still gone but the whispering hadn't stopped and it was only getting louder the stronger Dean fought. When he attempted a not so graceful kick at my shin I couldn't hold it in any longer.

A laugh tore itself from my throat. Something about it though must not have come out sounding like me because Dean stopped fighting me and froze in my hands. This sudden lack of movement surprised me and I took a minute to look into his eyes. What I saw there made me laugh harder, more harshly.

Fear.

Dean was finally afraid of me. After all the shit we had seen and all the things we've killed the one thing my brother comes to fear is me. I don't think the irony was lost on either of us.

* * *

He had that deer in the headlights look for a full five seconds before his shields drop again and he scowls at me. He isn't fooling anyone though and now he knows it. I finally saw inside of him and now I can't get enough of it.

It's as if his fear feeds my anger, feeds the darkness that is quickly seeping into my soul. Because that's precisely what is happening. The anger isn't just in my head anymore, it doesn't just want to kill Dean, it wants to consume him as well. It wants me to consume Dean so that it can have us both. So that Ellicot can finally have revenge on both of us for destroying his body with all that fiery glory.

Some small part of my mind that hasn't yet been consumed realizes that if I allow it to fully consume me then there will be nothing to stop it from consuming my brother. That no matter how hard Dean fights physically, he's just not strong enough to fight me mentally. And it has nothing to do with my psychic abilities and everything to do with the fact that I'm his little brother and he would give the world to me if he could.

Some part of me knows that if I were to ask him to let me kill him, consume him, he wouldn't tell me no. He couldn't tell me no.

And the part of me that is still sane realizes that its up to me to contain myself because this time there are no bones left to burn, and no spirit left to dispel. It's just me now. Me and my all consuming fury that will eat us both alive if I can't find a way to save us.

* * *

Alright, another author's note. I'm going in a bit of a different direction on this so bear with me. To prevent from suffering from another writer's block I have decided to post some options of where I think this might go and let you guys decide in a somewhat democratic method. If you don't like any and want to suggest your own that's good too. Maybe I'll even post several alternate endings to please everybody. What can I say I'm in a people pleasing mood today. Sorry, rambling... Anyways, these are some possible Ending Suggestions, pick at your leisure...

1) Dean shoots Sam

2) Sam shoots Dean

3) Dean beats stuffing out of Sam, vice-versa

4) Hot, steamy Dean/Sam moment (emotionally revealing)

5) Simple hot Dean/Sam stuff (rough, not for the light-hearted)

Or...

6) Explorations of Sam's feeling beating up Dean, Dean getting beat up by Sam.

* * *

There you have it. Pick your poison or concoct your own. Hope you enjoyed. 


	2. Alternate Ending 1 Innocence Lost

**When Bad Things Happen**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, someday though...someday...**

Pairings: None.

Summary: Even after the Asylum Sam still has some issues to work out with Dean.

Okay, as you all know I'm trying something different with this fic. So, this is the first alternate ending to the original chapter. I chose to write this one to start because it seemed to be the one with the most consensuses. Anyways, I give you...Sam beating the stuffing out of Dean with some rough handling (not for the light-hearted.) I hope you enjoy, I'll try posting another ending within the next couple of days. Unfortunately I will be attending school again next week and updates may be a little less frequent. Sorry, if it could be remedied you know I would do it...

Oh yeah, it's in Sam's POV and _italics _mean Sam's inner voice. You get to decide whether its Ellicot or just a crazy Sam.

**Alternate Ending #1- Innocence Lost**

* * *

Dean was beginning to struggle again and the part of me that was still lucid wanted to scream at him to stop. To tell him that he was only making it worse. My last shred of patience was practically gone and it was only Dean's docility that was keeping me from tearing him apart.

I knew that he was only fighting me to prove something to himself. To prove that he hadn't just shown me his greatest weakness and that he wasn't just a scared little boy that didn't want to die by his brother's hand. He fought so that he could tell himself he had gone out fighting. Dad would be proud.

Unfortunately, Dean's struggles didn't do either him or me any good. It didn't bring him any closer to being free from me, and it didn't bring me any closer to sanity.

In fact, if anything, it brought me closer to the edge of my encroaching madness.

* * *

The whispering was back full force again. Trouble was that by this time I couldn't discern whether it was the Doctor whispering or if it was my own mind spilling over the edge and taking control of my actions. But either way it had the same result.

The grip that my hands still held on Dean's neck and in his hair tightened to an almost frightening degree. I could hear Dean's sharp intake of breath at the new pressure being applied and my body tingled with delight.

Just the sound of his pain was enough to quiet the voice in my head so I pulled a little harder.

Dean was biting his lip now to try and keep the scream in but the sight of his blood just made me want to beat him until he begged for me to stop.

For a moment I just stood there, Dean pinned to the driver's side door and me looming over him with a maniacal smile on my face. Then, without any further thought I bit into the flesh of his exposed throat.

Dean's flesh didn't even put up a fight and it gave immediately. Not even a second after I had sunk my teeth in, I heard the grunt of pain and felt the wash of blood on my tongue.

It was divine.

It was as if some higher power had chosen Dean at birth to make him the most incredible being on the planet. They had given him looks, charm, bravado, fighting skills and the most incredible tasting liquid on the Earth as blood to fill his veins.

I would have sighed in happiness if Dean had just screamed for me. But all he did was grunt and try to push me off. The voice came back louder.

'_You see. He can't even allow you to be happy once. He took you away from college, from Jess, any happiness you'd ever known just so that he could control you. He's just like Dad. They'll never let you be happy. You have to make your own happiness Sam. And you know precisely how to do that, don't you?'_

I released Dean long enough to put a hand to my head and wipe the blood from my nose. It didn't take long for what the voice said to sink in though and my rage came back harder than ever.

I swung hard and connected with Dean's right cheek laying him out flat on the cold tar. He was dazed but not completely down and out. I laughed again when he stared up at me with pain in his eyes.

"What's the matter Dean, can't take a hit?" That changed his mood almost immediately. He lifted himself off the ground careful to keep his weight off from his injured shoulder.

When he was finally standing again I took my stance.

"Come on Dean, take your best shot. You're not really going to let yourself get beat by your baby brother are you? What would Dad say about his good little soldier then?"

It must have been the comment about Dad because he didn't even look for a weak spot. He just attempted to go straight for the jugular. He swung with his good arm and missed, but only by about a centimeter. Then, when he came back for a shot at my stomach I made my move.

I grabbed his fist without a second thought and used his own momentum against him. He landed back against the car again and I kicked him in the stomach while he was still recovering. He groaned in pain but gave no other signal of his distress.

My patience was starting to wear thin. I wanted him screaming and damn it all if Dean just wasn't complying.

"What happened Dean, you were so eager to please before." I grinned at him wolfishly and advanced. The glare that he shot me would have frozen anybody else but I brushed it aside and hit him again using the palm of my hand to further ruin his nose.

Dean just spit out the blood and laughed. Actually laughed.

"Fuck you Sammy. I know this isn't you. You wouldn't..."

"I wouldn't what Dean. I wouldn't do this..." I kneed him in the stomach and watched him hit the ground like a bag of bricks.

"Or I wouldn't do this..." I landed a kick right in the groin and all he did was curl up in the fetal position to catch his breath.

The haze had settled again. My only thought really was to beat him so bad that he screamed until the dead awoke again and helped to carry him home. I landed a kick to his head and once again the flesh gave way like it was butter and I was the knife.

All he did was lay there and pant until finally I couldn't take it anymore. I leaned in through the driver's side window and took the keys out of the ignition. Then I pushed Dean onto his back with my foot and ground hard into his stomach on my way over him to get to the trunk.

As soon as the latch released I grabbed the 9-mm near the baseboard and a couple of my favorite blades. Smiling appreciatively, I closed the trunk back up and went to straddle Dean.

"You know Dean, all you have to do is scream for me and I'll end it. No more hunting, no more searching for Dad, and no more seeking approval from a man who just doesn't give a damn. I can give it all to you Dean, if you just scream for me."

He spit in my face. "That's your dream Sammy, not mine." When he was finished talking he grabbed a rib and winced. But soon enough his face was back in that stupid mask again and all I could discern was anger and something else. Something that I never thought anyone could feel in a situation like this. Surety.

* * *

I realized then that Dean wouldn't be screaming for me because no matter what I did to him he believed that it wasn't me. That his little Sammy could never truly hurt him. It almost made me want to throw up, instead I just hit him as hard as I could again and again.

His nose had begun making this sickening squish sound as if there wasn't any bones or cartilage left to destroy. But all he ever did was grunt and take it.

I hit him so many times in the chest and the face that some part of my brain made the observation that he would look like he went through a cheese grater when I was done with him.

When I finally stopped to catch my breath I noticed that Dean's hand had found its way over to the shotgun I had taken out of the trunk. For a second I just froze. Our eyes locked briefly and I made to stand up. To put as much distance between Dean and myself as I could.

I could feel the dirt sticking to the blood on my hands as I balanced myself enough to push off from the ground. Then I brushed them off nonchalantly onto my already filthy jeans.

"What are you going to do Dean? Shoot me?" My voice was venomous. I couldn't believe I was stupid enough to allow Dean to get the gun away from me and a small part of me thought my brother should shoot me. The problem was that I wasn't sure if I thought that because I deserved it for my stupidity or for what I had done to the only person I ever really loved. My brain suddenly felt like it was all melting and pooling together in my head.

On the one hand I felt like I should take the gun away from Dean. That he wasn't strong enough or fast enough to shoot before I could get to him and I should make him pay for making me look weak.

The other half of me felt like I should let Dean kill me. That after everything I had put him through, that I put the family through, maybe it was time for it to come to an end.

Neither side really won out though. They didn't have to.

* * *

It took me a moment before I realized that Dean was holding the shotgun out towards me. I reacted instinctively and grabbed it out of his hands. Not bothering to try and steady him when he almost fell forward from the force of the pull.

He stood there, staggering slightly and trying to keep what little blood he must have had left in him from leaking onto the pavement. When he was finished spitting out a tooth he looked at me.

The expression on his face was the most open I had ever seen it. His body held the look of someone that was beaten and at an end. But his eyes...

His eyes held the look of a man that had seen the Devil and laughed in its face. He straightened his posture as best he could and stared at me. With that move of defiance his eyes showed me something new. Determination. It wasn't the kind of determination that said he was going to survive this just to kick my ass. It was the kind of determination like he had all the faith in the world in me and was determined to get me back, one way or another.

It was the determination that made me raise the shotgun and point it at his heart. But before I could pull the trigger I stopped.

He was smiling at me. It was strained and not in the least bit cocky, but it was a smile. A small part of my sanity started to claw its way through the sucking mud now filling my mind.

It wasn't clawing fast enough though and the other half of me still currently in control cocked the shotgun.

He still had that damn smile on his face and I couldn't help but take another look into his eyes. Determination and strength had been joined by reflection. As if his life were truly taking the time to flash before his eyes.

* * *

I couldn't help but wonder what he might be seeing. Was it mostly Dad? Mom maybe? As if he was reading my mind, Dean finally spoke.

"It's you Sammy." Those three words burned their way into my soul. Everything I had done, everything I was going to do, and he still believed that I was the good one. The innocent one.

I shook my head to clear the buzzing that had started. The whispering had risen to an almost deafening roar. Dean took a step forward and I raised the gun higher in warning.

All he did was give me a look. A look that I knew had no earthly words to describe. The only thing I could think of was...

"I love you Sammy."

Love. Not even that came close but apparently it was enough. All at once the whispering was gone. All of the mind numbing mud had disappeared and I finally had my sanity back. I had it back and I had no idea what to do with it.

The shotgun fell out of my hands soundlessly and lay discarded by the little yellow lines in the middle of the road. That was followed by my mouth, which fell open in abject horror of what I had done to the only person who had ever truly cared for me.

I couldn't even look at him, so when I felt a reassuring hand on my shoulder I immediately fell away from it.

* * *

I vaguely remember the feel of the pavement rising up to meet me and then I was throwing up anything I had ever eaten. The vomiting was a welcome retreat from reality however so I didn't mind. It was the images that came with it that my brain couldn't stand to see.

It was almost like a dam had been built between the conscious me and the subconscious me. I could remember beating the hell out of my brother, but there was no comforting logic behind those actions. It was the lack of logic that left me reeling. I had always had that logic. It had been what made me want to escape from hunting, to move in with Jessica, to ignore the phone calls from my brother.

That logic had kept me sane. Every decision I made was carefully planned out. Pros and Cons.

I had left home so that I could keep my family safe. I know that at the time I had told them it was because I had wanted a normal life. But logically I knew that I had done it because I blamed myself for Mom's death. I figured that Dad and Dean could protect themselves against whatever had killed her by not having to look out for my sorry ass.

And Jessica. I had moved in with her because logically it was the best thing to do. I loved her and it was the next place to go with our relationship.

Dean. I had ignore Dean's phone calls because logically I did not want my moving to be any harder on him than it was. I figured that if I just stopped talking to him he would get so mad at me that he would give up and move on with his life.

I should have known better. No matter how mad Dean got at me he would never give up. The evidence of that was standing right in front of me, bleeding onto my shoes.

My logic had been what I thought had kept me sane. But I realized with horror that it was the logic that Ellicot had used to twist me into his own sick creation.

In a moment of startling clarity I realized that all of the things I had reasoned were logical were nothing but selfish ploys. Everything I had done was for my own gain, and Ellicot had twisted that and directed it at the one person that was the center of why I had that logic.

* * *

Dean was the most important thing in my life and Ellicot had used that. He had used it and twisted it until there was nothing left but hatred and agony.

He had made me believe that I hated my brother. He had twisted my every logical thought until all that was left was the need to blame my brother for everything stupid I had ever done.

I didn't have logic. I had fear. And that fear made me believe that Dean was the one who had created it.

* * *

I was sobbing now. I knew it because I could see the drops glistening on the pavement beneath me. Dean was beside me again. He had sat down on the tar and was currently leaning against the Impala's front driver's side tire.

When I looked at him hopelessly all I could see was his tired smile. Everything we had gone through, and he was still smiling.

It was that smile that made me pull myself to my feet. That smile that made me help Dean up from the ground and gingerly lead him to the back of the car where I gently laid him down in the back seat. It was that smile that also made me go and pick up the weapons from where they now lay and place them back in the trunk.

That damn smile that told me that no matter how much faith my brother had in me, I had still broken something inside of him. And no matter how much logic I purged, I could never put it back.

* * *

Okay, how much did that suck. But seriously, if you got confused I apologize. It all kind of spewed out at once (pardon the pun) and I couldn't stop it. If you have any questions just ask and I'll try to answer them. The next chapter should be up soon. Hope this is satisfying enough for now...

-Lily1186-


	3. Alternate Ending 2 A Fitting End

**When Bad Things Happen**

**Disclaimer: No, I still don't own anything Supernatural related but maybe some day my dreams will come true...sigh.**

Pairings: None.

Summary: Dean is tired of Sam treating him like a piece of dirt and gets a little physical.

Author's Note: Okay, here's another ending to the original Chapter, "When Bad Things Happen." This one will start out in Sam's POV and change to Dean's POV if all goes well. You know how sometimes the characters run away with your fingers. Anyways, I start school soon so I apologize if I don't update again until the weekend. I'll do my best but it's entirely possible that my homework is going to kill me within the next few days. Wish me luck and I hope you enjoy...

**Alternate Chapter #2- A Fitting End**

**

* * *

**

**Sam's POV**

Dean still wasn't moving. We stood there for a moment, me with my hands on his neck and in his hair and him taking shaky breaths to control his anger.

If the air had life it would be a raging wall of fire. Both my fury and that of my brother's was like a living thing. Our wills were slowly battling for dominance and although Dean's was strong I knew mine was stronger. There was no possible way that Dean could match the level of my rising rage at this point. The whispering in my head was urging me to just snap his neck but the other half of me wanted to bathe in his blood first. I was so lost in my thoughts of what I was going to do to him that I never saw the fire reach his eyes.

The next thing I knew I was on my back looking up at the clear night sky trying to figure out where the pain in my stomach had come from. Then my view was blocked by the looming shadow of my brother who looked like he was about to rip me apart.

**

* * *

**

**Dean's POV**

I don't know what happened. One minute I was about to let Sam rip my throat open and the next thing I knew I had landed a kick in his stomach and was leaning over him about to rip his head off.

I think it was the laugh that did it. I hadn't heard Sam laugh in so long and now that I heard it I never wanted to listen to it again. It didn't sound like him. My brain registered at least that much. Sammy's laugh had never sounded so evil, so completely soulless. And I would know the difference. Believe me. I have heard Sam laugh when he was angry, when he was being sarcastic, even when he felt defeated. But he had never sounded like that. And that sound... I just snapped.

I could see him on his back on the pavement; a weird sort of surprised look on his face. If I didn't know any better I would have thought that Sam was back in his head again. That is, until he looked at me. It was still in his eyes. That crazy, psychotic glow that had filled them when we were fighting at the Asylum. That glow meant that Ellicot was still in there. Still trying to control my brother. And Sam was letting him.

A part of me realized that Sam was probably fighting him. If there was one thing our father had beaten into us since we were young it was that we should never stop fighting. But another part of me knew that, once again, he wasn't going to win. Now, I didn't know if this was because he just didn't want to win, or because he really couldn't beat Ellicot but at this point I didn't really care. All I wanted was to find a way to free Sam. And in true Winchester fashion, only one way to help him came into my head.

So, with that thought in mind I pulled my leg back and kicked Sam squarely in his side.

* * *

My boot connected loudly in the dark and I could vaguely see Sam curl in on himself in pain. But I just didn't care anymore. My own anger and rage at my brother was coming out and I knew that if I didn't stop now I wouldn't be able to stop later. I also knew that I wouldn't have a psychotic Doctor to blame when I was through with him.

All of the thoughts of Sam and our childhood came back to me in a rush. For a second all I could do was stand there, panting heavily, while I tried to steady myself. Tried to regain control of all of my emotions and the dam in my head that was about to burst. I had almost done it too. I had almost reigned everything in again and had even managed to take a step back. To give myself the distance I needed to fully recover. Almost.

But then I heard that laugh again. It beat its way into my skull with the force of a category five hurricane and I couldn't breathe. My rage ripped through me and my skin felt like it was on fire. I had to find a way to put it out. The answer presented itself to me in the form of my brother attempting to get to his feet.

* * *

I was on him the second he got up on one knee. I remember my fist connecting with his face and the wash of relief that it provided me. It was like my whole body was suddenly being dropped into an ice bath. My breath caught and I had to stop and take another breath. When it passed though I grabbed Sam by the hair and lifted him to his feet.

"You're not my brother."

I made the declaration partly for my own piece of mind and partly to hear what Sam would say. What he did say made me lose any semblance of control that I still had.

"You'd love that wouldn't you. You convince yourself that I'm not your brother and then you can do whatever you want. But I am your brother Dean. I'm just sick of being the good little boy and lying through my teeth. I am your brother but I don't want to be."

My jaw tensed and I threw him away from me. The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

"You ungrateful little bitch. I've looked out for you your entire life and this is what I get for it!" I ripped open my shirt to reveal the ugly purple bruise that was still painted across my chest. I couldn't feel the pain it issued anymore though since the adrenaline had its desired effect and had drowned out anything that wasn't pertaining to my rage and aggression.

"I've saved your life more times than I can count" I advanced on him and landed another kick but this time directly to his stomach. He made a sort of "oof" sound before rolling to his side. "I practically raised you! I kept you out of the cold, I protected you from evil, and I even comforted your sorry ass!" He tried to speak but I simply kicked him again until I could tell that he wouldn't be saying anything for awhile.

"You don't get to speak! I have never done anything to hurt you Sammy. Never. The only thing I have ever done is be your big brother and this is how you repay me." My voice had lowered to an eerie chill and even I knew that I was going to far. But I couldn't stop now, couldn't bring myself to spare little Sammy's feelings any longer.

"You just don't get it _Sammy_. You think I want this life." I raised my hands to the sky and turned around slowly to gesture to the cornfields and broken tar. I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. I had always thought that when me and Sam duked it out we would be surrounded by people yelling "fight! fight! fight!" Not in the middle of nowhere with only the wind for company. I turned my attention back to a slightly hyperventilating Sam.

"You think I didn't want to go to college. To have a life of my own. You think I like being Daddy's little soldier. No. But I sucked it up Sammy and gave it all to you. I let you go off to college even though it killed me inside. I let you have your normal life, your perfect girlfriend and your proverbial white picket fence. And yes Sammy, I know what proverbial means."

Sam had shifted again and now he was glaring at me. Well guess what, I could glare too. In fact I could do a lot more than glare. And I did.

I walked over to the car and pulled the back door open. Laying there, innocently as ever, was the sawed off shotgun from the Asylum. The thought that it was pretty fitting for me to grab this vaguely passed through my mind before I directed my thoughts outward again.

Sam had finally regained his feet and had taken a defensive stance. All I did was laugh at him. This time it was Sam that almost looked afraid. But it was quickly consumed again by the endless, nerve-grating glow. Before he could even react I bashed the butt of the shotgun into his nose. The blood hit the ground splattering outward, some of it landing on my shoes. I sighed quietly.

"Now look what you did." Sam just looked at me silently. Apparently even angry Sammy didn't think I had it in me to kick the crap out of him. Lucky for me it wasn't really Sammy.

At least that is what I was going to keep telling myself. No use getting bogged down with emotions and shit when I had a little brother to beat and bring back to his senses. Because that was the goal here. Yeah. The only way to bring Sam back was to beat Ellicot out of him. That was the Winchester way after all.

I swung the gun again and connected with his jaw this time. Then, when he tried to regain the control that he never really had I cocked the gun and pointed it at his chest.

"Don't fucking think of it" I spit.

"You can't..." I could tell that Sam was trying to form words around his quickly swelling jaw and I almost laughed again.

"You can't do it. You don't have it in you." He was standing there with that smug look on his face holding his hand over his noise and trying to stop the blood from flowing.

It came on me like an epiphany. Even with Sam's mind being controlled by Ellicot he still had faith in me. His mind had locked onto that fact and he was holding onto it with all he was worth. And I suddenly realized what I had to do to get my Sammy back. I knew that I had to break him and I knew exactly how I could do it. I mean who else would know everything there was to know about little Sammy. Who better to bring him back from the edge of madness.

Before I could think on it too hard I pulled the trigger.

* * *

I could feel the shotgun as it expelled the shot but my ears didn't really register the sound. All I saw was the rock salt impacting Sam's chest and sending him backward across the pavement. He hit it hard and didn't get back up. For a second my heart stopped. Maybe I had shot too close to his heart, or he wasn't as strong as me. It only took me a minute and I was by his side, the shotgun discarded before I could even think.

"Sam! Sammy! Wake up!" He didn't move. I put my hand to his throat and checked for a pulse. I couldn't feel anything. I started to breathe faster, my eyes darting around for something. Anything. When I couldn't find anything that would magically solve my problems I tore his shirt open and started CPR.

I could see the small holes that the rock salt had made in his skin and it made me cringe. What had I done? It had been the perfect plan. I shoot Sam, and the part of Sam that was holding his mind together, the part that thought I could never hurt him, would break apart and Ellicot would no longer have a hold on him. But somewhere, something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

I pushed down hard five more times and tilted his head back breathing as much air into his lungs as I could along with a prayer to a God I didn't believe existed. I did that four more times before the thought that Sam might really be dead passes through my mind. It was then that the tears started to flow. The air that I had been providing for Sam left me and I couldn't think. I couldn't think so I did the only thing left that I could do. I pushed harder.

I pushed so hard that I think I must have broken a rib with the sound it made. I pushed and pushed until I could feel a little bit of myself leaving me. I pushed and I pushed and I pushed. And with one last desperate push I breathed in all of the sorrow and anguish, all the love and understanding that I had gained from my brother through the years and gave it back to him in one final rush of air.

And with that one breath his chest started to rise again. It started with a sputter and developed into a gasp and then a hacking cough. I couldn't believe it. Before I knew what was happening I had pulled Sam to me and hugged him as tight as I could before the pain from both of our wounds became too much.

We broke apart when I heard Sam continuing to gasp for air. When I pulled him back to look in his eyes the first thing I noticed was the absence of the glow. Ellicot was gone. The second thing I noticed was the betrayed look in Sammy's eyes. I had to close my own against that look.

"I had to do it Sammy. It was the only way." I know my voice sounded pleading but at this point I didn't care. Sam had to forgive me. It was as simple as that. I couldn't live if my little brother hated me, if he thought that I had betrayed him.

"I need to get up." Five little words. They didn't even have any special meaning but the way that he said it made me want to tear myself into little pieces. His voice, the voice that held always held at least some kind of warmth, was now filled with the same cold tone that it had held at the Asylum and again a short while ago. It was a voice without trust.

It was a voice that would haunt me for the rest of my life because this voice didn't have a crazy Doctor to explain it away. This voice was all Sammy's.

It took me a moment to register what he had said. And then, even though I was broken inside, I did what I always did. I sucked it up and helped Sam to his feet. When we got to the car I opened the passenger side door and helped to carefully buckle him in, trying to avoid his upper chest as much as possible. It didn't go unnoticed by either of us when Sam pulled away from me after I had gotten him settled.

I slid into the driver's seat and buckled myself in. Barely noticing the shotgun that was still discarded by the side of the road.

* * *

As we drove off into the night to try and find the nearest motel to crash at I thought of all the things that my brother and I had faced over the years.

All of the Werewolves and Wendigos. All of the demons and poltergeists. All of the evil things in the world with their claws and their teeth and their thirst for blood.

We had no need for them. We could tear each other apart just fine by ourselves.

To think, we had been standing side by side for years and never realized that we would be our own destruction. Our love, and out hatred. That would be our ultimate end.

Fitting I guess.

* * *

Well, there you have it. Dean angstyness abounds. I hope you enjoyed and feel kind enough to leave me a nice little review. The next chapter will probably contain slash just to warn you, but after that its back to the angstyness again. Love you all that have reviewed so far. You keep me going. Now I have to go do homework. God save us all from that hell.

-Lily1186-


	4. Alternate Ending 3 Fallen Angels

**When Bad Things Happen**

**Disclaimer: For a minute there I thought they were mine, then I woke up and found that they weren't.**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, yes that means WINCEST folks. This chapter is dedicated to it so if you don't like that kind of stuff then turn back now. But thanks for coming!

Summary: Dean is tired of the way Sam treats him and figures out a way to pay him back.

Author's Note: Alright, this is the SLASH chapter that I promised to write. Sorry if I'm a little late but this week ranked extra high on the suck-o-meter. Hopefully this will make it all better if everybody reviews. (Sorry, not real subtle on the hints). Oh yeah, and since I have no beta all mistakes are my own. Anyways, I should be writing the fifth chapter for Caged after this so it will probably be at least another weekend before I can get up the fourth chapter to this. Sorry. But I do hope you enjoy this until then...

**Alternate Ending #3- Broken Angels Fall the Farthest**

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* * *

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**Dean's POV**

I couldn't believe I had to fucking go through this again. We left the Asylum no more than three days ago and my brother's already jumping me. Well guess what, this time I wasn't just going to lie down and take it.

I waited for the opportune moment to make my move. It came right after Sam was pushing me against the car and after I could feel my neck almost snap with the force of his pull. The next thing I know he is just standing there looking like he was somewhere else. Well I wasn't about to look a damned gift horse in the mouth so I acted fast.

My leg came out before I even registered that I was moving. It connected hard with his left knee and he went down fast. I could almost see the look of surprise in his face reflecting in the light from the headlights. I didn't take too much time to think about it though because I knew that if I gave him the chance he would regain control and I would be just as screwed as I was a minute ago. He caught me off guard once and I'd be damned if I was going to let him do it again.

* * *

While Sam was trying to catch his breath I opened the backseat of the car and pulled some cord out from under the front seat. Better safe than sorry is what I always say. Sammy just thought I was paranoid, I guess he knows better now.

It couldn't have taken me more than a minute to grab the rope and take up position over Sammy. He had gotten his wind back and his knee must have been feeling better because he tried to sweep my feet out from under me when I got too close. Luckily I was prepared for him and easily evaded his leg.

In retaliation I landed a blow to his jaw that sent him reeling back onto the pavement. He skinned his face a little on the tar but it wasn't too serious and I knew it would heal nicely when all of this was over and done with. So, ignoring his yelp of surprise and pain I quickly covered the distance between us and managed to yank one of his arms behind his back.

Apparently Sammy didn't like this idea though and he began fighting like a rabid pit bull. He struggled as hard as he could, pulling against my arm and trying to wriggle his way out of my grasp. Sammy must have forgotten that while he was away trying to have a normal life, I was out hunting with Dad honing my skills and fighting God only knows what. So his attempts at trying to escape my grasp would have been laughable in any other situation. As it was it only served to piss me off and I pulled a little harder until his shoulder almost dislocated. He let out another cry of pain and I took advantage of his distraction to pull his other arm behind his back. In about 10 seconds flat I had his wrists securely tied behind his back in the most painful position possible.

I could hear him yelling something about how he was going to rip my head off but I just laughed and placed my foot onto his back pushing him face first into the pavement.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, you've got to learn to watch your mouth."

While he was busy attempting to get onto his knees I went back to the car. I knew he wouldn't have any luck getting up because those fucking long legs of his wouldn't allow it in his position. I always told him that they would be the death of him, but he never listens.

* * *

I grabbed the discarded keys from the front seat and used them to pop open the trunk. I could still hear Sam swearing and the sounds of his nice jeans scraping against the tar so I knew that he was still where I left him.

I had to close my eyes against the light in the trunk before I could find what I was looking for. The darkness had finally fallen and the only light around was that of the trunk and the headlights on the car, which were illuminating Sam's prone form quite nicely.

I didn't quite know what I was going to do with him until I looked up and saw the way he looked all messy and pissed off. The anger in his eyes was reflecting by the headlights and I could see from where I was standing that he was panting with exertion. I have to admit it was making my mouth water.

Just the sight of him was making me hard and I had to tell myself to focus on the task at hand. So, looking back at the contents of the trunk I found what I needed and pulled it out along with something extra just in case. Then, when I was done I closed the trunk with a deafening snap and began stalking back to take care of my little Sammy once and for all.

* * *

Sam had heard the trunk close and was looking at me murderously as I made my way back to him. I had the contents from the trunk scrunched up nicely in my hand and it was obvious that he couldn't see what it was from the apprehension that was slowly seeping into his eyes.

"That's right Sammy, it's your turn to be afraid." I had gotten close enough so that I could land a decent kick to his stomach and that is exactly what I did. I kicked him so hard that he rolled over onto his back and groaned in pain.

"What Sammy, no death threats, no talk of hatred. Come on where'd my little hell dog go?" Sam didn't say anything right away just glared at me stubbornly. When he did finally speak I almost kicked him again.

"Wonder what Mom and Dad would say about you now Dean. Thought you were supposed to be my big, bad protector. Fight for me and die for me until the end of time?" He laughed then. Laughed like he was the Devil himself. At any other time that laugh would have scared the crap out of me, but I was tired of being afraid and I knew that I had the upper hand. Sam knew I had it to because with all his talk he was desperately trying to get as far away from me as possible. I laughed right back at him.

"You know what Sammy. I'm tired of protecting your ass. I think that for once you need to get it kicked. I've spent my life watching out for you and what do I get for it... nothing. Nothing but you whining about how Daddy doesn't love you, and how you never knew Mommy. You want to know what they would say about this Sammy? Dad would be proud that I was finally standing up to you. You see, it was never him that I had trouble defying Sam, it was you. He always said that I gave you everything you ever wanted. That I would do anything to satisfy you. Well guess what, I'm sick of it, and for once I'm going to do something that satisfies me."

With that said I lifted him off the ground and began dragging him back to the car. He must have thought I was going to kill him or something because he started to swear about how he was coming back to haunt me and that I didn't have the balls to do something like that. I only smiled at him in return.

When we finally got close enough I really surprised him by throwing him against the hood of the car. He was shocked for a minute and must have thought I was starting a fight because he attempted to stand in order to defend himself better. What he didn't think I was going to do was hit him in the jaw and then throw him back against the hood. He landed harder this time and I moved behind him to pin him to the hood with both my legs and my lower body. Sam still had no idea what I had planned for him. He tried to maneuver enough to get a good look at me but I used my right hand to pin his face to the cold metal.

"Uh uh Sammy, no peaking." I laid the materials from the trunk onto the metal next to him and he struggled a little harder to free himself. When he opened his mouth to spout out another line of bull shit I took the leather strap that I had gotten from the trunk and shoved it into his open mouth. I released my hold on his head and then used both my free hands to tie it making an effective gag.

"Sorry Sammy but I'm sick of listening to you. I think it's my turn to talk for once don't you? I mean you always want to have these fucking chick flick moments don't you? Well, now's your chance."

I grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around so that he was facing me. No point revealing your soul to someone if they aren't even looking you in the eye to tell if you're lying or not.

* * *

I took a moment to admire my handiwork.

Sam's face was still bleeding slightly from where it had scraped the tar and his pupils had dilated to almost twice their normal size. In the soft light I could also see that his shirt had ripped, probably from one of his falls, and his mouth was opened slightly from the gag. For a moment I just stood there staring at him. My breathing had picked up as soon as I had tied the gag and Sam's had too. Just the sight of him all bound and gagged with his chest heaving would have been enough to turn anyone on. I swear to God he looked like an angel. Well, maybe not a pure angel, but definitely a fallen one.

His arms were still working to free themselves but I could tell it was only half-hearted now. Sam was finally realizing that I was in control and he wasn't going anywhere. He also knew that given the road we were on there was no real chance of someone driving by to rescue him. If he even wanted to be rescued.

It was that thought that had me leaning forward before I had time to think. My lips collided with his and all of my other thoughts were scattered to the wind.

They were softer than I remembered them. Much more pliant with just a hint of defiance in his kiss. Nothing like the first time. Nothing like when I had kissed before he went off to Stanford.

* * *

I remember that Sam had just finished fighting with Dad about the acceptance letter Dad had found in the mailbox. Dad had stormed out of the house and Sam had run upstairs practically in tears.

I remember going after Sam and finding him in his room with his backpack out. He was crying and shoving his clothes inside it, completely oblivious to me. An unexplainable rage had taken over me then.

I had always thought the day would come when Sammy would leave. Ever since he brought home his report card in the third grade and told us that he wanted to be a doctor or something when he grew up, I knew that he would be going his own way. I had even attempted to prepare for it. I had tried to distance myself from him during fights and even tried to convince myself that it was for the best that he left. But I was wrong. I wasn't prepared at all. When I saw him physically getting ready to abandon me it was too much.

I had screamed at him about how he couldn't just pack up and leave and that he was just as bad as Dad. Sam had screamed something back at me through his tears but I hadn't heard him. The ringing in my ears had been too loud.

Before I knew what I was doing I had slammed Sammy into his bureau and covered my lips with his. He was shocked for a second and I remember thinking that this was it. I had just ruined the relationship with my brother because I couldn't keep my hormones in check.

Looking back on it though I remember thinking that it wasn't just my hormones. Hormones could explain the lust and the adrenaline, but not the all consuming love that I had always felt for my little brother.

None of those thoughts mattered though when Sam had pushed me away and continued packing. When I tried to touch him and explain myself he had just cringed away from my touch and not spoken a word.

When he was done packing he had slung his backpack over his shoulder and left without even looking back. I had thought that it would be the last time I saw him or spoke to him again. I had been wrong, but maybe it would have been better if I was right.

* * *

A squirming Sam brought me to my senses. He was attempting to pull back away from me and I grabbed his hair and pulled it roughly in warning. He stopped struggling and when I pulled away I could see a little bit of blood run down his chin from where I had bitten his lip. For a moment the look in Sam's eyes almost convinced me that he was back inside his own head. He had that same confused expression that he wore all those years ago back in his bedroom. But as quickly as it was there it was gone again. Replaced by that homicidal rage that only Ellicot could produce.

I sighed loudly and flipped Sam over again so that I wouldn't have to look into his eyes.

"This is for your own good Sammy. Actually it's for both our own good."

I grabbed the back of his t-shirt and used all of the muscle I had to rip it off of him. He shivered slightly in the cooling air and I drank in the sight of his pale, bare skin against the black hood. I bit my lip in admiration and felt a little of my own blood well up. I ignored it of course and focused my attention on Sam's exposed neck. Just like he had done to me I pulled his neck roughly to the side and examined the long expanse there. His skin was perfect and I suddenly hated that perfection. That perfection made him untouchable. Well not anymore.

I ran my hands along it lightly before I leaned down and bit into his neck. I could vaguely hear him cry out in shock but I just couldn't care. His skin, his blood, tasted perfect. He was perfect through and through and it made me angrier. I had to do something to destroy that perfection. To turn him from an angel to a human. I only had one idea of how I could do that though and I wasn't even sure if that would work. Sam had been perfect for twenty-two years and I had no idea if what I was going to do would be able to fix that. But I was willing to give it a try.

I moved back and watched the blood dribble down his shoulder and back marring the skin and creating the perfect contrast. White, red and black. It would have made the perfect painting.

* * *

Sam had become complacent all of a sudden. It was as if he was a large cat and my bite had affirmed my dominance over him. He lay against the hood of the car breathing heavily but not doing much of anything else. I decided then that a quiet Sammy was a boring Sammy and I untied the leather strap.

For a minute all he did was lick his lips and try to get the circulation going again. When he was done with that he spoke.

"What are you going to do Dean? You going to make me say I'm sorry? Beg you for forgiveness? Huh? Well I'm won't. So why don't you just beat me till I'm half dead already and we'll call it good."

He still thought I was going to beat him. Poor naive little Sammy.

"Do you remember the kiss Sammy?" My voice came out lighter than I wanted it too but it must have spoken volumes because Sammy tensed and shivered. He didn't say anything in response but I didn't really expect him to.

"This isn't about you saying you're sorry Sam. This is to show you that you can't walk out on your family. You can't walk out on me." I ran my hands slowly down his back at first and then ran them towards the front of his body running them lightly over his abs. I could feel the muscles contract under my touch. His skin was warm now, flushed from the fight and maybe something else.

"I've got news for you Sammy. You can't just abandon me, you're mine now. After this...after this you'll be a part of me more than ever and I'm never letting you go again."

As I finished my speech I slowly worked his buckle out of the loops and discarded it on the side of the road somewhere. The sound of it carried into the night and then it was only us again.

I was taking my time now, there didn't really seem to be any rush to prove myself because when I did he would remember it forever anyways. When I was done with him he would know that there could never be anyone else.

I used my fingers in his belt loops to tug down his already baggy jeans and watched as they slid down his legs to get caught on the grill of the Impala. He was wearing those blue boxer shorts that always got me hard and I sighed as I took in the sight of my beautiful brother. I had a sudden urge to run my fingers through his hair so I did just that.

H leaned into my hand slightly and I could almost swear that he growled at me. It was then that I could feel his ass pushing into my groin and not in a way that made me think he was trying to escape. I entwined my fingers in his hair and pulled his head backward at an odd angle. I could hear a breathless "Fuck!" exit his lips but then he fell silent again except for the panting.

"You like that Sammy?" At first he didn't answer but then he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

I brought my face down to within a few centimeters of his ear and blew on it lightly before I said, "What would Mom and Dad think of you now?"

He flinched slightly but to his credit he didn't back down. All he did was lean further into me.

"Face it Dean, you can't handle me. You couldn't handle me then and you can't handle me now."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that if you could have handled me back then, you wouldn't have let me get out that door. You would have thrown me down and taken what was yours consequences be damned. But you couldn't, you still can't. Because when it comes straight down to it you know that I'll never truly be yours."

* * *

His words cut deeper than I ever thought that they could. It wasn't just the fact that I had the same thoughts earlier but that he could say it with so much anger. I had always thought that Sam had hated me because I had kissed him. That he hated me because what I had done went against every social norm there is. Now I realize that he didn't hate me for any of those reasons. He hated me because I didn't stop him from leaving. All of those years spent not seeing each other, not speaking, and it was all because we had somehow destroyed our bond. We could no longer tell what either of us was thinking and it had resulted in one big drawn out stalemate. Apparently Sam wasn't the only one that had fallen from grace.

* * *

I decided that it was time to reaffirm the bond that we had inadvertently severed. And yes I do know what inadvertent means. I might not have gone to college but that doesn't mean my vocabulary sucks.

Anyways, the thought of all those lost years made me want to prove my claim over Sam even more.

Any doubt that I might have harbored got thrown out the window along with my patience. Suddenly my clothes felt like they were too tight. I took a minute to pull my shirt over my head only to get it stuck halfway there. I struggled around like a fish out of water for a second before I got the shirt off and threw it in the general direction of Sam's belt. When I focused my attention back on Sam I noticed that he was laughing at me.

"What the hell's so funny?"

"Nothing. It's just that I could have helped you out with that if you would untie me." I was shaking my head before he even finished talking.

"No way. You look too damned hot being bound." Sam's face flushed and I kissed him again. This time though it was hard and rough. All of the pain, betrayal and hurt from the last four years was poured into that kiss and both Sam and I were left breathless afterwards.

Without further thought I began working on my buckle. It was gone before I could blink. Then my hands were back on Sam's body. Searching, exploring, mapping out every curve and dimple, every indentation and scar. In no time at all I had Sam's body memorized. It was as if the bond that I thought had been severed had reattached itself and all of the old knowledge that I had of my brother was back again. All those years studying the way his body was growing and maturing. All the years spent learning his fighting techniques and watching him try out for sports that we were never in one place long enough for him to really join.

I could remember it all now and I couldn't help but smile at the fact that I had just taken the first step in getting my brother back. My fingers dug into Sam's hips slightly and I pressed himself into his back in order to get as close as I could. As if Sam was reading my mind though I could make out the words "Not close enough" whispered into the night.

Complying to Sam's wishes like I always did I slowly worked my hands down his body enjoying the soft mews and moans that left his bruised lips as his boxers fell to the ground beside his jeans.

I couldn't help but marvel at the way his ass curved perfectly to fit my hand and the way that he made every single noise the most erotic thing I had ever heard. It didn't take me long after that to discard my boxers as well.

* * *

The first press of skin on skin contact was enough to take both our breaths away. I almost passed out from the sheer perfection of it.

When I had recovered enough to put my brain back into my head I reached to my left and grabbed the small tube of lubricant that I had grabbed from the trunk along with the gag. Sam was looking at me now with a face that said that he wants this as much as I do.

I leaned in for one more kiss while I was spreading the lubricant on my fingers.

When the first finger went in and I felt him tense up I pulled back. My voice came out husky but truth be told I'm surprised it came out at all. "Is this your first time?" He glared at me for a moment and I had to roll my eyes. "With a guy I mean, dumbass." He blushed a deep shade of red and averted his eyes.

"There's only ever been you Dean."

Not to be cliched or anything, but if I had died right now I would be a happy man. Those six words were the ones I had been waiting my entire life for. Even before I had realized how deep my feelings for Sammy really ran.

I worked my finger in a little deeper and I could hear his gasp of surprise. I took that as a good sign and worked a second finger in. When I removed my fingers to add more lube I could hear him begging me to take me, hard and rough.

The sound of it went straight to my cock and I couldn't stop myself. I brought my hand back and hit him as hard as I could with my open palm, right on the ass.

You would have thought that I had shot him or something with the way his body jolted. When I grabbed his chin to make him look at me, his eyes were closed and his lips were parted. I moaned out loud at the sight of him.

"You're going to be the death of me Sammy."

He didn't reply. I don't think he could.

At that point I had decided to forgo anymore light play and I quickly applied the lube all over my rock hard cock. I don't think I had ever been this hard in my life and it was all Sammy's fault. He just had to be so God damned perfect.

Using that anger and lust I put it all into one hard thrust. Sam cried out in pain but I knew that if I hadn't made it quick he just would have whined about it later.

Being the nice brother that I am though I allowed him to adjust around me for a few minutes before I started moving.

The first few tentative thrusts Sam bit his lip so hard that it started to bleed again. I just leaned forward and licked it up before it ran down his chin, and moved as slow as I could.

Soon though the slow pace wasn't enough for either of us and Sam began moving against me. The moment that I pushed forward and he pushed back I knew that this was what completion felt like. Everyone that I had ever cared for didn't matter anymore. It was just me and Sam.

* * *

The momentum grew until I could feel the muscles in my back tightening and my toes starting to curl. I thrust harder. Sam's moans and shouts would have waken the dead and I have to say that I wasn't much quieter. Apparently we were both screamers.

I wanted this to last forever but I knew that with the sounds Sam was making and the way that he felt it would be impossible to last much longer.

Sam was close too. His back was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and his breathing had become erratic as he grasped his dick in his hand and pulled for all he was worth. When I noticed this though I used one hand to pull on his hair and the other to bring him to completion myself. I had to let him know that there was no way in hell that he was going to go over without me so I slowed the pumps until I could feel myself almost at the edge.

When the time finally came I thrust as into Sam as far as I could and I felt him tense at the same time I did. There had never been any orgasm that was better coordinated than ours. It was as if we really did become one person. But maybe that was what we had always been.

* * *

All of those years apart had almost killed me and I was beginning to suspect that they had almost killed Sam too. Maybe we weren't two people after all and simply two parts of one whole. It couldn't be a coincidence that all of the things that had happened to us had only served to bring us closer together and not push us apart. All of the deaths, the fighting, the reliance only on each other, all of it served to further our destiny. And I knew now that a destiny was really what we had. Because Winchesters don't believe in coincidences. This was meant to happen. Sam and me were meant to be together again.

Almost makes me wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gone to get him after Dad had disappeared. If we had just continued to go our separate ways. Oh well, guess I'll never really know. Not that I really want to anyways.

* * *

Sam was slumped against the hood of the car and I could hear his breath evening out as he regained composure. I had collapsed on top of him and now he was mumbling something about getting my heavy ass off from him but I just laughed and kissed his back.

We laid like that until sunrise and I saw the headlights of the Impala go out. I cursed silently but Sam only laughed.

"What did you expect leaving the car on all night."

"It's not my fault you distracted me and I forget to shut it off." Sammy only snorted in reply. I punched him lightly on the arm and turned him so that he was facing me. For a minute I just looked into his eyes. The homicidal rage was gone and Doctor Ellicot was nowhere to be seen. But my mind couldn't help but ask if Sam had really wanted this or if Ellicot had been around long enough to influence his decision.

Sam must have seen this though because he leaned forward to give me a light kiss on the lips.

"It was all me Dean. It's been me ever since you asked me if I remembered our first kiss." If I hadn't already had enough chick flick moments to last me a lifetime I probably would have cried out in relief. As it was, all I had to do was smile and Sam smiled back.

* * *

As we got dressed and started covering the miles between where we were and where the next town was, I finally felt like my life had purpose again. I wasn't alone anymore. All of the darkness that had filtered into my soul over the years, the darkness that I had hidden from everyone, including myself, had left along with Ellicot.

Sammy had given me some of his light and I could only hope that he hadn't absorbed the darkness. Somewhere deep in my heart though I knew that he hadn't. I knew that no matter what, Sam would always have the light and now that we were one I would always have it too.

I would always have my Sammy.

* * *

So, this being my first actual sex piece I would really appreciate some constructive criticism. I hope that you all enjoyed because this is the longest chapter I have written so far and I have to say that it was emotionally taxing. However it did make an excellent end to the week. I hope I didn't disappoint anyone and I will hopefully be writing more soon. Everybody have a good week!

-Lily1186-


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